


Painted In Flames, All Peeling Thunder (Be the Lightning in Me That Strikes Relentless)

by JackEPeace



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, Maveth - Freeform, way too long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 01:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9525830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you will have plenty of time to regret your hubris as you drift for infinity through the void."-or-Jemma on Maveth (AU).





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank plinys for making a list of prompts from Welcome to Night Vale tweets because it was one of those prompts ("Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you will have plenty of time to regret your hubris as you drift for infinity through the void.") given to me by an anon that birthed this (insanely long) story. I really love the Jemma on Maveth AU/trope and apparently my brain has been waiting a long time to write this out so...I thought go big or go home, right?! 
> 
> Title from "The Lightning Strike" by Snow Patrol

She'd never wanted to be a field agent. She'd fallen in love with the lab in the way that other kids fell in love with ponies or the wind in their hair or flowery language or the smell of machine grease. She'd never wanted to be anywhere else, unless maybe it was in the classroom, learning about things that would help her when she was able to get back into the lab. SHIELD had recruited her as a scientist when she was only sixteen and Jemma Simmons had never longed for anything more, watching the field agents in their training and mission briefings without feeling the slightest twinge of envy. The agents never seemed to look twice at her, never showed gratitude for the gear she and the others designed or for the biological breakthroughs that came from hours of lost sleep and lost socializing. Even still, Jemma had never wanted anything more, never aspired to leave the lab and enter the field. She'd never aspired to anything other than to be the best biochemist SHIELD had ever seen…and then be even better.

Jemma figures it's her own fault that she's in this position. Hubris was a word she'd learned early on, though not in that specific terminology. Kids had always called her a teacher's pet, a know-it-all, a kiss ass. Even the other SHIELD scientists, the ones from the Academy and the ones she'd worked shoulder-to-shoulder with in the lab, had gotten used to gritting their teeth around her, unable to say anything to burst her bubble because she was never wrong. Her hunches and research always paid off, her understanding always came quickly and she'd never failed to let everyone else know. With all this information and potential right at her fingertips, Jemma couldn't imagine hobbling herself to let the others catch up.

The field agents had told her it was dangerous. Even the Director had kept a respectful distance when he'd come into the lab to study the stone in the Plexiglas case. He'd turned his good eye on her, as though he could see the wheels turning in her head and the way she was practically chomping at the bit, standing closer than anyone else dared. "Off limits," the Director had growled, pointing a finger at her. "No exceptions."

Of course Jemma hadn't listened. She never did.

There's no going back now. She's going to die here, Jemma absolutely understands that. Wherever here is…it's so impossibly far from her lab and the place she came from that it's almost impossible to believe that somewhere other than the place she is now even exists. There's no sun and there's a startling lack of color. Everything around her is grey, brown, blue: the sky, the sand, the reflection of it all on her own skin. The wind whips her hair around her face and she has to squint against the sand as it bites into any inch of exposed skin; a lab coat, blouse and slacks aren't exactly suitable attire of exploring an alien planet.

Not that Jemma knew she would be on an alien planet this morning.

She really should have listened to the Director, just this once.

All around her, there's nothing. Jemma can see only sand, sand and more sand, though there's the hint of mountains in the distance. There are stars above but it doesn't make her feel better or more connected to the night sky she remembers from home. It only makes her feel more alone, more forgotten, more stuck.

Jemma spends approximately thirty minutes sitting in the spot she had been gracelessly dumped before she decides to get to her feet and make the best of the situation. This can mean approximately two things; the best-case scenario can either be: finding a way to survive in this alien terrain for the next ten hours or ten years; the best-case scenario can also mean stumbling into a hole or something that's going to eat her. Jemma's up for anything,

As she walks, Jemma looks for signs of life: something she can eat, something that can eat her, signs of someone else here with her. There's nothing but sand. Sand, sand, sand. It's thrilling.

And it all looks the same. Eventually Jemma finds a branch, which she starts breaking into pieces, jamming them into the sandy ground so she can keep track of the places she's already been.

Eventually she runs out of stick and it's just her and the sand again.

* * *

 

There's no such thing as time on this planet, Jemma figures that out pretty quickly. The only way she has to measure the amount of time is how her body is fairing. She's passed from being hungry, to being ravenous, to feeling nothing at all aside from a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth is dry and it feels like her tongue is coated with sand…and her pores, and her hair. Her skin is raw from the wind and all the sand and her lab coat is long gone, abandoned in a fit of frustration when it kept tangling itself around her in the continually blowing wind. There are periods where everything is still and Jemma almost misses the sound of the constant whistle of the wind and the scratch of sand. Almost.

And she's pretty sure that there's something following her. Jemma can't prove this, can't guarantee that it's not some product of her hungry, tired, overwhelmed mind. She can't shake the feeling, that prickle on the back of her neck, the sensation of being watched. Every time Jemma turns around, every time she back tracks and studies the way she came, there's nothing, no proof that she isn't alone. Jemma can't figure out if she's hoping to find something or dreading it.

When she sleeps, she doesn't dream. It's a blessing, in a way; Jemma isn't sure she could immerse herself in the memories and fantasies of being back home, in her lab, in her apartment, and then wake up to find herself back here. Not that she sleeps often; she's too afraid to let herself become so defenseless.

Against what, Jemma still isn't sure. But there's something there, she's sure of it.

Most of the time, Jemma just stays in one place, laying on her back and staring up at the sunless sky. The stars are unlike anything she's ever seen before. This place is unlike anything she's ever read about, even in the wildest SHIELD archives and mission reports. If only she could find a way back home, she could make her name on writing about and studying this place, on discovering a completely new planet, ecosystem, section of the galaxy. Everyone would know her as the brilliant scientist who conquered and studied an alien planet.

Usually, that's the point in her day-dreaming that Jemma remembers how she ended here in the first place. She'd wanted to be the first to study and understand the alien stone that had the Inhumans so afraid, she'd wanted to be the best. Well, she's definitely gotten up close and personal with it.

It's completely by chance that Jemma finds the water supply. She loses her footing, stumbles, falls, careening down one of the dunes. It seems to take forever, long enough for her to make up her mind that if she ever stops tumbling then she's never going to get up again; in reality, it probably only takes seconds but time, as previously stated, doesn't seem to exist in this place.

Jemma lands, driving the air out of her lungs and her foot hits the water, soaking her shoe and sending a chill through her. Her previous decision to just lay here forever is immediately forgotten when she realizes what she's found and she spends the next several minutes cupping water in her hands, sipping slowly or simply staring as the water runs through her fingers. She splashes it on her face, revels in the coldness of it, the sensation of it on her tongue. It might kill her but Jemma is willing to take that risk.

Though, it doesn't take her long to realize that there's something else in the small body of water that she's stumbled upon. Something that probably will kill her, if it can grab ahold of her. She sits on the bank, watching the water as it ripples from time-to-time, re-contemplating her fate.

If there's water…she might have a chance after all.

* * *

 

Now more than ever, Jemma is certain she's not alone. And not just because of the thing in the water but because of the figure in the distance. Jemma is certain that she's seen it, certain that her mind isn't just playing tricks on her. She spends her days -however they might be measured- sitting by the pool of water, fashioning weapons out of the sticks that she can find and stealing alien seaweed from an alien water source on an alien planet. She intends to use her crude weapons on the beast in the water but Jemma isn't above using them on the figure that she spots out of the corner of her eye, should that figure ever come closer.

She's decided that she doesn't want to die here after all. Not figure is going to change her new plan.

Jemma can feel herself becoming more in-tune with the planet around her, more understanding of the beast in the water, making a predator out of herself as well. In the moments when the wind stills and everything is silent, Jemma is even more certain that she's not alone. She can feel the presence, growing steadily closer, bolder, creeping in on her. It's not just nerves or paranoia or a result of eating strange alien seaweed. She's certain of it. She can see the shape out of the corner of her eye, always in her periphery, because as soon as she turns her head, it's gone.

But that she doesn't mean Jemma doesn't know that it's there.

Jemma decides that the best way to deal with this new situation is to force a confrontation. It's been her plan for dealing with the beast in the water and she's willing to try out this strategy on the shadow always lurking just out of sight. She feigns ignorance, indifference, wandering as far from her sanctuary by the pond as she dares, trying to feign the useless meandering of someone who's given up.

And the figure is there, Jemma can feel it in the prickling on the back of her neck and in the way that her muscles tense without her command. Jemma forces herself not to turn around, not until she can hear the previously silent footsteps in the sand, the subtle shift of the grains.

With a yell, Jemma whirls around, swinging her poorly fashioned spear, using it more like a club. It's hard to say who is more surprised when the stick actually connects with something solid. Even though Jemma was expecting it, hoping for it, it's still startling to turn and find someone there after all.

They both tumble to the sand and Jemma tries to swing her stick again but the figure reaches up, grabbing her forearms and within seconds, the tables have turned and Jemma once again regrets the misguided idea that somehow convinced her that she could take on some alien figure on an alien planet. What is it that they say about pride? It goeth before the-

Jemma doesn't get to finish that thought because her back is hitting the sandy ground hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs with an embarrassing gasp and she sees stars in front of her eyes. Her weapon is out of reach and she's not strong enough anyway to wretch herself out from underneath the figure on top of her.

Not a figure…a person. A girl. A human girl.

Jemma can't help but wonder how hard she hit her head or what's in the seaweed that she's been eating.

Jemma gasps, trying to breathe through the burning in her lungs and the pressure on her chest. "What…what are you?"

The girl looks down at her, eyes narrowed, her expression more contemplative than aggressive. "What are you?" She repeats, her tone softer, curious. "Who are you?"

Jemma can't do anything but stare up at her attacker. This girl doesn't look much younger than herself but her features are more weathered, her skin bearing the signs of too much time in the wind and elements; her hair is a ragged mess, like she cuts it herself and her clothes look equally tattered and threadbare. But she's human, or at least, she looks that way.

"My name is Jemma," she says because she isn't sure what else to say with her arms pinned down and this girl on her chest. "How long have you been here?"

The girl leans back onto her heels, taking some of the pressure of Jemma's chest and stomach. If she needed any proof that she's not just imagining things she can get it from the ache in her ribs.

For a minute, they only stare at each other. In the girl's face, Jemma can see her own shock and confusion reflected back at her. She opens her mouth to speak but doesn't seem to know where to start.

And that's how Jemma meets Daisy Johnson and learns that she's not alone after all.

* * *

 

Daisy gives her back her hand-made weapon and leads the way back toward the pond. Jemma wraps her hands tightly around the rough wood but the desire to use it has gone down considerably, even though she still can't really process what's just happened. What are the odds of finding someone else here on this wasteland?

Neither of them speak as they walk and Jemma attributes that to shock on both their parts. When Daisy finally does speak, it startles Jemma; she's grown accustomed to hearing only the sound of her own voice and the wind. "I have a shelter," Daisy says without looking at her. "You can come back there instead of staying here."

For a moment, Jemma actually hesitates. She looks at the water, the pile of supplies she's managed to craft and find for herself. Daisy offers her a smile like she's not sure she remembers how to do it. "It's not far," she says. "And I have supplies there."

Of course Jemma goes with her because putting her faith in someone else, a stranger, a human stranger, is preferable to staying here alone and waiting.

"How do you have supplies?" Jemma questions as they walk, counting their footsteps in her head, trying to memorize the distance between the pond and the place Daisy is taking her. Just in case.

Daisy shrugs. "I found them. People have been here before."

Jemma looks at her with interest. "Who else is here?"

"No one, now," Daisy tells her. "Just me. And you."

She tries not to let her disappointment show. More people mean more data, more stories, more chance to find a way back home. "How long have you been here?"

Daisy considers, tilting her head. "What year is it?" Jemma tells her and Daisy frowns. "Three years."

Jemma's eyes grow wide. "Three years," she breathes, horrified by the idea. Three years here…alone. "How did you get here?"

"The same way you did, I guess," Daisy replies. "Giant rock? Likes to eat Inhumans."

"You're an Inhuman?" Jemma tries to think about the things she read about them in her files, in the bit of research that she'd been able to do. She's familiar with the Index, like any good SHIELD agent would be; the registration seemed to be a pretty good reason for Inhumans to want to distance themselves from SHIELD, though there were a few interested in working with the organization. Not nearly enough to satisfy her scientific curiosity, not that that really matters much now.

Another shrug. "My powers don't seem to work here," Daisy says. "Are you?"

Jemma shakes her head. "Just a scientist…or I was. I guess there isn't much need for a scientist in a place like this."

"Well, you're the first, so that counts for something, right?" Daisy points out. Her voice is sweet and rasping, lilting in a gruff sort of way, evidence of disuse.

They finally come upon Daisy's shelter, an underground bunker of sorts that feels almost eerie and unnatural after endless days out in the wind and elements. Down here, the wind is only a faint whistle and everything is still and quiet. Daisy moves easily around the space, turning on a series of battery powdered lanterns that suffuse the room with a comfortable glow. Jemma takes in her new surroundings, the small home that Daisy has managed to craft for herself; there's a pallet made of sleeping bags in one corner, the pillow a rucksack with the NASA logo emblazoned on the front. There's cans and boxes and camping meals in another corner, carefully organized, and two metal water bottles standing sentry beside the food. Some of the equipment seems old and useless: the old, dusty computers and devices that have been out of fashion for years, replaced and upgraded by the advancement of technology. There are a few spare pieces of clothing, shoes several sizes too big, something that looks a lot like an astronaut's suit laying in a heap. There are more boxes and Jemma is curious to see what's inside them. It's lonely and quiet but it's almost like a home and Jemma is surprised.

She turns toward Daisy, who is unabashedly staring at her curiously. "You've been following me for days," she says. "Why didn't you say something before?"

There's a hint of accusation in her tone only because Jemma is suddenly, almost irrationally angry that she's spent the past several days living off seaweed and pond water and waiting to die.

"I didn't know what you were," Daisy admits. "I…I had to be sure. My mother told me stories about this place, about the creature that lived on this planet. I needed to make sure that you weren't…It."

Jemma crinkles her nose. "That thing in the water?"

Daisy almost laughs, shaking her head. "No," she assures Jemma quickly. "No. Not those... Something else…something…I don't know." She shakes her head again. "I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner but I…I didn't want to hope for something and then…" She waves her hand, as though letting her almost palpable hope blow away.

Jemma draws in a breath, trying to steady her nerves, the emotions twisting her stomach into knots. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I…thank you. For bringing me here."

Daisy smiles at her and it seems to come easily now, like she's more comfortable in the gesture. "I can't believe you're here," she admits and then she pauses, seeming to consider her words. "Though, you know, it really sucks here."

Jemma laughs, surprising herself. "Yeah. Yeah it does."

* * *

 

"Have you explored the whole planet?" Jemma questions a few days later when their shared meal is finished and they've got worn, sandy cards spread on the folding table between them. Jemma has combed through most of the supplies that Daisy has inside her shelter, studying them with Daisy, listening to her talk about how she found them, how everything bears traces of a NASA mission obviously gone wrong.

Daisy shakes her head, laying one of her cards on the table. "I tried but it's bigger than I first thought and I was worried about not being able to find my way back or running into…the other Thing. I don't think it matters anyway; I don't think there's any way off."

Jemma frowns, studying Daisy instead of the cards in her hands. She was right about her age -she's one year younger than Jemma's twenty-one, which means that for the past three years while Jemma was graduating from the Academy and taking charge of the SHIELD lab, Daisy was here, arranging camping meals into orderly piles and inventing card games.

Time still doesn't matter on this planet but that bothers Jemma a little bit less now that she's found Daisy. She has someone to talk to, someone to spend the day with, someone to play cards with and tell stories with, someone who makes her feel less alone and found in the middle of all this sand and wind and nothingness. Dying on this planet -hungry, exhausted, alone- suddenly slips from the forefront of Jemma's mind, allowing her to replace those thoughts with another: getting off this planet.

She's still Jemma Simmons; her pride is clawing its way to the surface, reminding her that she's the best, that she can solve any problem set in front of her.

For now, Jemma puts her mind to work solving smaller problems: how to make their food last, how to beat Daisy at card games she invented and, more importantly: "I would murder my boss for a shower."

Jemma says these words absently, surprised that she's spoken out loud the thought that's been weighing heavily on her mind. The Director would be a formidable opponent but in this situation, she thinks she could win given the prize. Unfortunately she doesn't even have that option.

Daisy sighs wistfully. "I know, right? I've kinda forgot what it feels like to be clean."

"You've never tried to use the pool of water?" Jemma questions, absently losing another round of this confusing card game. They go to the pool daily, filling the canteens with water, Daisy glancing around furtively the entire time.

Daisy gives her a look. "I really don't want to be eaten by some alien water monster in order to take a bath."

While this is a fair point, Jemma is in the place where it sounds like a chance to take. "What if we had a plan, a way to trick that creature or kill it?"

"Maybe," Daisy says absently, almost dismissively. "Do you want to play again?" She holds up the cards.

Daisy and her ridiculous game and her crooked smile distract Jemma from her plan, albeit temporarily. She hands back her cards. "We need a new game."

* * *

 

Some mornings, Jemma expects to wake up and find that Daisy is just a dream, something her desperate, lonely mind has conjured up as she steadily goes crazy from the isolation and the baffling reality of being stuck on a planet in the middle of an unknown solar system. She's not sure the she could handle it if she were to open her eyes and find herself back on the bank of the lake, shivering and alone.

When Jemma opens her eyes, she can feel the press of Daisy's back against hers, the heat that's become a steady companion for the past several days…weeks…months…honestly Jemma doesn't know anymore. But what she does know is that she and Daisy lay down together on the pallet of sleeping bags and they wake up that way each morning. Sometimes they find themselves on opposite sides, as though in sleep they wanted to keep a canyon of space between them. But usually Jemma wakes up feeling the weight of Daisy against her: an arm thrown over her waist, a leg twined together with her own, the curve of vertebrae pressing against her skin, a tangle of hair tickling her nose or lips. Sometimes, Jemma finds herself waiting until Daisy starts to stir, keeping her eyes closed and savoring the reminder that she's not alone, that she has Daisy here with her.

Sometimes, they spend their days -or what approximates for days- in a comfortable silence, enjoying one another's presence if not their words. But more often than not, they talk, passing the hours in conversation. Daisy tells her about her parents: her mother, the Inhuman, her father the man who fell in love with her during his months in China. They were both doctors ("Still are, I guess.") but her mother's real passion ("Still is, I guess.") was helping the Inhumans like them, the ones who needed guidance and support and someone to help them through the confusing and sometimes painful transformations that brought them their abilities.

"That Kree Stone was always like the boogie man," Daisy says with a shake of her head, the furrowing of her brow. "My mother always told me never to go near it and…I thought I knew everything."

Jemma scoffs, laying her hand over Daisy's. "I did too," she mumbles. "I wonder how SHIELD ended up with the Kree Stone if your mother used to have it."

There's a gap for both of them and Jemma wishes that she could tell Daisy something about her parents, that she had read something in her files about a powerful Inhuman named Jiaying, but the name doesn't sound familiar and she guesses it really doesn't matter because the stone had changed hands and now here they both were. Wherever here is.

Jemma talks about her own parents, how she'd picked up a textbook one summer while recovering from surgery and never wanted to put it down again, how she'd moved through her studies and books and journals and reports with a sort of frenzied desperation. How she'd found herself in SHIELD at the age of seventeen, already convinced that she knew everything and just needed to be given the keys of the kingdom. Which, apparently, opened the door to this place.

And sometimes they go through the piles of equipment left behind, the equipment that they've already studied countless times before but remains intriguing nonetheless and a source of entertainment from time to time. Jemma holds up one of the tattered old astronaut's suits, running her fingers across the worn nametag across the front. Daniels. "I wonder what happened to the astronauts."

"That Thing probably killed them," Daisy mumbles as she pries the back off one of the computers. "That's what It wants…to kill anyone on this planet."

Jemma swallows, tossing the suit aside. "Have you seen it?"

Daisy nods. "Once. That was enough." She holds up a handful of wires and a flat, metallic plate. "This stuff is ancient. It must have been forever since someone was here. Before me."

"Too bad you can't turn it on, send someone an e-mail and let them know where we are."

Daisy smirks. "Right: look for the planet with two moons and no sun, lots of sand, second star to the right and straight on til morning." The pieces she pulled from the computer drop to the floor, her interest waning. "Come pick us up at your earliest convenience and bring pizza."

Jemma grins, "And some way to shower. And lots of pillows."

In that moment, Jemma's plan to get back to the lake is reborn and she brings it up again the following day, though the extent of her plan really relies on her crude stick-weapon, which she's reinforced with glass found among the astronauts' refuse.

"This is not a good idea," Daisy tells her flatly when she realizes what Jemma has planned. "Trust me. I've gotten into the water with that thing before and I almost died. It's not worth it."

Jemma makes a face. "Think about washing your hair…being able to rinse all this sand off…"

"And then getting sandy all over again?" Daisy lifts her eyebrows. "I thought you were some kind of genius scientist."

"It's worth a try," Jemma tells her, ignoring the comment. "What else are we going to do?"

They're at an impasse and Jemma matches Daisy's raised-eyebrow expression, both of them issuing a silent challenge. Finally, Jemma decides to go alone so that they both get what they want.

She doesn't get more than a few feet away from the entrance of their shelter before Daisy is hurrying after her, crossing the rocky terrain to catch up. Jemma smiles at her, already feeling better about things now that Daisy is by her side. "This is still a dumb idea," Daisy tells her frankly but she's here so that says enough.

As they walk, Jemma glances upward, scowling. "Where is the sun?" She says mournfully. "I miss the sun."

"The sun…" Daisy mutters contemplatively. "It's the kind of thing you don't think you'd ever forget but most of the time I can't remember what it feels like."

"Warm," Jemma says quietly, trying to remember the thousands of times she went about her day without giving the star a second thought. "Like how it feels to wake up next to someone you love."

Daisy smiles at her and Jemma's words catch her by surprise; she doesn't know when she started thinking in metaphors rather than the multitudes of scientific explanation she could have used to reply to Daisy's comment. "Oh," is all Daisy says.

The pool is exactly as it always is; they've been here often, making daily treks to fill their canteens and scout out for something, anything they might not have noticed before, something to get them back home. Jemma is always embarrassed by the way the sight of the seaweed makes her stomach twinge, a reminder of her hunger. She'd really like to go the rest of her life without having to eat alien seaweed again…however long the rest of her life might be.

The water ripples, as though the aquatic creature has been expecting them. Daisy looks at her. "This is a bad idea."

It is.

The plan had seemed simple and straight forward enough and basically hinged on the idea that they, as humans, would be able to outsmart and kill an alien creature. Unfortunately, the creature had a different plan, one that involved in killing them and staying alive to swim around another day.

The creature pulls Jemma under and as the inky, cold darkness of the water closes around her, she loses her grip on the club and can't think of anything other than getting out of the creature's grip and never going into the water again. She feels the splash more than hears it, feels the displacement of the water as someone else sinks beneath the surface; she feels Daisy's hands on her, pulling her upward, toward the surface, kicking out at the thing beneath the water.

Jemma gasps when her head is above the water again and she kicks her way toward the bank, forcing herself to go faster, to ignore the pounding of her heart and the fear burning through her limbs. She crawls into the muddy sand, turning back and reaching for Daisy. She's almost got a grip on her hand when Daisy is pulled under again.

Instantly, Jemma feels the fear she'd felt for herself eclipsed by a much stronger, primal emotion. This is sheer terror, one that stems from Daisy disappearing from sight and leaves Jemma feeling helpless and enraged and panicked on the bank. She yells Daisy's name, as though that might help, debating for only a moment; if she jumps back in, they could just keep repeating the same series of events over and over again until the creature gets them both and makes them dinner. If she doesn't jump in, if she loses Daisy, then she might as well be dead.

It's impossible to see in the water but that doesn't matter; Jemma finds Daisy anyway, reaching out and touching her shoulders, brushing the twists of hair that float in the water around them. She doesn't think she's ever fought for something so hard, understanding for the first time in her life what it truly feels like to feel panicked desperation, to be certain that you'd do whatever was necessary to save the person in your arms.

It feels like years before they're at the surface again, coughing and sputtering and kicking away from the creature and its reaching, twisting tentacles. This time they get to the bank together, Jemma pulling Daisy up after her. Daisy is coughing, sputtering, shivering and Jemma can't think of anything to do but wrap her in her arms, holding her close against her chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispers, squeezing her eyes closed and pressing her forehead against Daisy's. "I'm sorry, I should have listened."

Daisy just holds onto her and Jemma takes solace in the rise and fall of her chest, eventually growing slower and steadier. Jemma looks at her, pushing her wet hair away from her face. She kisses her forehead, letting her lips linger against Daisy's skin and Daisy only tightens her grip, pulling them closer.

"I'm sorry," Jemma whispers again and Daisy meets her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Daisy nods and for a brief moment, Jemma thinks Daisy is going to close the distance between them, that she's going to press their cool lips together and it nearly knocks her over how badly she wants that to happen. She can't believe that's never realized how much she wants to kiss Daisy, to feel that connection between them.

But then Daisy's turning her head away, tensing in Jemma's arms, pulling away. "Oh no," she says softly, wearily. "No."

Jemma looks, expecting to see the creature emerging from the pool of water or something worse coming toward them but all she sees is Daisy's ankle, torn and bloody. Daisy reaches forward, pressing her hand over the wound, her face losing its color.

"It's okay," Jemma assures her, reaching to pull her hand away. "Let me see. It doesn't look serious."

"Don't!" Daisy says quickly, pushing Jemma away. "Don't touch it. Don't get the blood on you. It likes blood…It'll smell it."

Jemma's brow furrows. "What do you mean?" She looks again toward the water but it's still, giving no sign of the struggle that just took place beneath the surface.

Daisy grabs some of the mud, smearing it across her ankle. Jemma starts to protest but Daisy is already getting to her feet, pulling Jemma up with her. "We need to hurry. It'll be after us."

"Daisy, I don't understand," Jemma says, raising her voice to be heard over the wind around them. Which is a little unusual, considering the wind has never kept her from being heard or hearing Daisy before. The wind feels stronger than usual, whipping around them, as though its reaching for them, pulling them back, curling like fingers around limbs. "What's going on?"

She doesn't get an answer, just Daisy holding tighter to her hand, dragging her forward, faster and faster. That prickling in the back of her neck is back, the same sensation she'd felt before when she'd been so certain that someone was following her. Before it had been Daisy…suddenly Jemma is afraid to turn and look over her shoulder.

But she does anyway, ignoring the voice in her head that tells her not to look, to squeeze her eyes shut and feign ignorance. There's a dust storm growing behind them, which explains the increased fervor of the wind, the sand all around them making it difficult to see. Nothing to be scared of, nothing worth the pounding in her heart or the way Daisy is acting. For a second, she feels better, content in the belief that everything has a decent, scientific answer.

And then Jemma sees it, there behind them, nearly obscured by the approaching sand and the strong winds. Another figure, humanoid and clothed in dark fabric that doesn't move in the wind. It doesn't seem to be moving but at the same time seems to be getting closer with each second.

Jemma turns away, quickening her pace, as though those things could possibly make a difference.

They're back at the shelter, disappearing down below the earth, escaping the wind and the sand and…It. Jemma understands now what Daisy has been so afraid of.

Daisy falls to the ground, gasping her breath, her eyes wide and wild with panic. Jemma kneels in front of her, taking Daisy's face in her hands, not that it seems to make a difference, not that she seems to realize she's there. "Daisy, shhh, Daisy, it's okay."

Daisy can only shake her head, reaching up and wrapping her fingers around Jemma's wrists. "No…I can feel It…in my head…I can hear It…" She swallows, shaking her head, looking at Jemma with desperately wide, imploring eyes. "It wants to kill you. But It wants…me…It wants…"

Again Jemma pulls Daisy to her, her fingers digging into the space between her shoulder blades. She can feel Daisy trembling against her, can feel the rapid beating of her heart. "We're safe now, we're safe," Jemma whispers against her temple, pressing her lips there. "You're safe. I promise."

Jemma isn't sure how well she'd be able to keep that promise if it ever came down to it but she knows that that Thing would have to kill her to take Daisy from her arms.

Eventually Daisy calms down but they aren't quick to separate. Jemma likes the feeling of Daisy in her arms, likes the way they seem to fit together effortlessly. They're both shivering in their wet clothes and somewhere throughout their misguided adventures, Daisy has managed to lose a shoe. The clothes left behind by the astronauts are big and stale but at least they're cleaner and dryer then what they were wearing before.

"Well, you were right about one thing," Jemma remarks as she gets a fire going to warm them in their new, dry clothes. "I feel worse than I did before getting in the water."

Daisy manages a smile, watching Jemma closely as she brings the fire to life. "Just that one thing?" She teases.

Jemma only shakes her head, sitting down beside Daisy instead of opposite her. "I'm not very good at admitting when I'm wrong," she says and she meant it to be a joke but it comes out like a flat statement, a confession. It settles heavily in the pit of her stomach. "That's why I'm here, I guess."

Daisy leans against her, resting her head on Jemma's shoulder. "Why?"

"My boss…he told me to stay away from this thing, to leave it alone until SHIELD could move to the stone to a secure location," Jemma says. "But I couldn't. I just had to know, I had to be the person who figured out all its secrets before anyone else. And now I guess this is karma, right? I'm stuck in the middle of solar system with plenty of time to regret every stupid thing I've ever done."

"Well, I've always heard that karma is a bitch but this might be taking it a little too far," Daisy says and when she looks up at Jemma they're millimeters away and that tugging sensation is back in the pit of Jemma's stomach, that blossoming of warmth that she felt in the most absurd of moments on the bank by the water. "It's not your fault you're here, Jemma, it's just shitty luck."

Jemma can't stop herself from reaching out; she starts to push Daisy's hair behind her ear but then just pauses, letting her fingers brush against her cheek before her hand falls between them. Daisy shifts imperceptibly and just like that their lips are meeting and Jemma's eyes are closing and her hand is lifting again, this time curling around the base of Daisy's neck. And they use their endless, immeasurable hours to learn the patterns of one another's bodies and touches and kisses, to stop thinking, however briefly, about this place they've found themselves.

And when Jemma wakes the following morning with the heat and weight of Daisy against her, the first thing she thinks of is the sun.

* * *

 

Jemma finds a stack of papers stuffed in the bottom of the rucksack that Daisy uses as a pillow, which explains the rustling that always accompanies Daisy's restless sleeping. They're old and brittle, some of them too faded to provide much insight of entertainment. One of the papers unfolds into what Jemma quickly determines as a map; she spreads it out across the foldable coffee table they usually use for playing cards.

Daisy is dozing fitfully on the ground close to the fire, the space blanket across her shoulders reflecting the firelight. Jemma glances in her direction and sees that Daisy is already watching her, seemingly more interested in studying her movements then figuring out what she's doing. Jemma holds up the paper. "What is this?"

Daisy sits up, keeping the space blanket wrapped around her. It's been…well, Jemma assumes days since their encounter with the creature in the water and the other Thing sharing this planet with them and Daisy has been a little under the weather ever since. Jemma hopes it's got more to do with being in the cold water than the creature or the alien planet. "Oh, I found that a while ago. Way before you came. It's a map, I think, but I couldn't figure out how to read it."

Jemma studies the marks and notations made by the men who were here before them, who have already died and disappeared on this planet. Some of the markings make sense to her: the mountains in the distance, the pool where they get their water. She notices evidence of something being scratched onto the back and when she flips over the map, she finds the back of the paper almost completely covered in lines and dots, an explosion of patterns that she can't quite make sense of.

Daisy comes to join her, pulling her chair over beside Jemma's. "Oh, I did that a while ago." She seems almost embarrassed by this confession, crinkling her nose. "My dad kinda had a thing for the stars…we had this project when I was younger, trying to chart the movement of the stars we could see from the backyard throughout the year. I started doing that here because I thought it might help pass the time and then my pencil broke and that was the end of that."

Wordlessly, Jemma lets her eyes move over the paper, her mind startling to trace the patterns, to notice how Daisy set up her project. It was thorough and she's disappointed that Daisy's pencil quit before the job was done, though she feels a little selfish for thinking that.

Jemma flips the map back over again, studying the contours of the land once more. She mentally traces her movements from the pond back to the place where she first landed, approximating the location as best as she can. She turns back to Daisy's star chart and it's like two parts of her mind suddenly snap together.

"I know that look," Daisy remarks as she watches Jemma's face. "Does your brain ever stop working?"

"I hope not," Jemma says, laying the map down flat on the table again. "Because I think I know how we can get home."

* * *

 

Jemma has her head against Daisy's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart beating beneath her ear. They're supposed to be looking at the stars but this…this is exactly how Jemma wants to be spending her time right now. Daisy's fingers are tracing meaningless patterns on the small of her back and she wonders if Daisy can feel the shivers that her touch is eliciting.

"Do you really think there's a chance we could get back home?" Daisy questions and Jemma can feel the soft rumble of her voice in her chest.

"The portal should work both ways," Jemma replies, lifting her head so that she can look at Daisy's face. "If we can get to the next place it's going to open then we'll just have to cross back through. Assuming the stone is still in SHIELD's possession, we'll be safe as soon as we get to the other side."

Daisy smiles almost wistfully, like she can't believe it could be that simple. Jemma isn't sure that it is; they still have a lot to do when it comes to studying the rotation of the planet in relation to the stars but it can be done. She just isn't sure how much time it'll take. At least Daisy seems to have shaken the cold that left her shivering and shadow-eyed, so Jemma decides to take that as a good sign. A positive step in the right direction.

"What do you think you'd want to do first when we get back?" Daisy questions and her fingers resume tracing patterns on Jemma's back. "I think I want to eat. Like so much food. Food that doesn't come in freeze-dried pouches or old protein bars."

"That sounds nice," Jemma says longingly, her mouth practically watering at the thought of an actual cooked meal. "I'm still after that shower though."

Daisy sighs, the sound almost a whimper of longing that makes Jemma's insides jump. "A hot shower," she says reverently. "With soap."

Jemma grins, emboldened by the feeling low in her stomach. "You could always join me." It feels ridiculous propositioning her with the promise of a shower that might be weeks, months, years off.

But Jemma likes the way that Daisy's cheeks pinken while her eyes darken.

There's something about the way Daisy's smile seems to falter that makes Jemma lose her own smirk. "What?"

"I…it's stupid," Daisy scoffs, rolling her eyes at herself. "Definitely not the kind of thing I should be worrying about right now."

Jemma gives her a look. "Well you might as well tell me. We've got plenty of time for conversation."

Daisy is silent for a moment, considering her words. Even still, they come out halting. "Do you think…when we get back I mean…this…thing with us…that we'll still…you know…make sense? Even when it's not just the two of us?"

Survival situations, even ones far more mundane than the one they're currently experiencing, often cause strong bonds between the people who experience them, building or forming relationships that might not otherwise begin or blossom. Jemma's never been in the position to contemplate those relationships, to question their success or the validity. Until now.

Not that she's still given it much thought or questioned her feelings for Daisy or the connection building between them. It's somehow deeper than this place, this moment, like it was somehow always meant to be, like it was Daisy who brought her to this place so they could find each other.

Jemma leans forward, kissing Daisy softly. "I love you," she says simply. "On this or any other planet."

Daisy smiles. "That was cheesy."

"Really?" Jemma feigns disappointment. "I was going for romantic."

Daisy kisses her again and all thoughts of watching and charting the stars are put on hold for the time being.

* * *

 

"I think this is our best bet," Jemma says with more conviction then she's currently feeling, tapping to a spot on the map. It's a little easier now to chart the passage of time by watching the stars move but it's still imperfect and she's not sure how long she's been here, let alone how exact their measurements and predictions are going to be. "I think the portal will open somewhere around here."

Daisy studies the place beneath Jemma's finger like it's something more than a spot on a piece of paper. "It's really that easy? Just…show up and wait for it to open and…pop back to Earth?"

Jemma grins. "Pop? Like whack-a-mole?" She teases, unable to fight the giddiness in her chest despite the misgivings in her mind.

"Well, hopefully without the mallets." Daisy nudges her playfully. "That would really suck."

Another thing they both agree would suck is missing their window of opportunity. Even if it means leaving the shelter earlier than necessary, packing up a few things and risking the elements and…that Thing out there. Jemma can only hope that they wouldn't across paths with It before the portal opens and they're safely back on the other side, where they don't have to worry about alien water monsters, constant sand storms and mysterious murderous beings.

"Pizza, cookies, clean sheets, hot showers, pizza." Daisy seems content to methodically list out the perks of life on Earth as they walk, following the path that Jemma hopes she's charted correctly. "A real mattress, clean clothes, fruit, salad…"

"Stop," Jemma chides playfully. "You're just making me hungry."

"Just giving you something to look forward to," Daisy replies cheerfully. "Though the more I think about it, the more awesome clean sheets sound. It's all about the little things, I guess."

There's no denying the fact that Jemma is looking forward to falling asleep beside Daisy in an actual bed with actual pillows, in a place that isn't a glorified hole in the ground. Not that she's knocking their sanctuary or anything…she just really hopes this works so that they don't have to find their way back there with all these hopes and expectations dancing around in their heads. Holding onto hope, letting herself practically taste it…Jemma can only imagine how terrible it would be if somewhere were to go wrong…if all that hope slipped so easily through their fingers.

Her calculations aren't entirely correct. Jemma doesn't realize this until they're still yards away from where the portal is supposed to open and she sees a flare go arcing through the sky. It's such an odd burst of color in the otherwise bluish grey environment that it brings them to a complete stop and they stare, uncomprehendingly, at the burst of light that burns out all too quickly.

There's someone on the other side, someone reaching out to find her.

"The portal is open," Jemma whispers and Daisy holds onto her hand so tightly it aches. "Hurry. We have to hurry."

Neither of them need further urging. There's no way to know how long the portal will stay open; all Jemma knows is that it felt so fleetingly, frustratingly brief when it dumped her onto this place and then closed up beneath her hands. Her heart is thudding in her ears. They don't have a lot of time.

The wind is whipping fiercely around them, making it difficult to see and Jemma has to squint her eyes just to keep from being blinded by her own hair and the sand flying through the air. She just holds tightly to Daisy, trying to push through the wind that seems so determined to hold them back, moving steadily forward in the direction that the flare seemed to come from.

Daisy spots it first, her hand squeezing Jemma's tightly once more. "There! It's open!"

Jemma can't see anything; even Daisy, directly in front of her, seems impossible to pin down. She just holds on tightly, bowing her head against the wind and the sand and that prickling feeling on the back of her neck, trusting that the portal is near and open.

"We're almost there!" Daisy calls, the wind whipping her voice away almost before it can reach Jemma's ears. "I can see it!"

One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, one step…it seems impossibly difficult, like the planet itself is trying to keep them from leaving, trying to keep them here for that Thing. And maybe it is, maybe that's how the others died before them: inches away from the hope of an exit but unable to find it.

But then Jemma can see the portal, the swirling vortex there in the midst of the sandy, rocky landscape. It doesn't matter what's on the other side, as long as it's far away from this place.

They're almost there when Jemma loses her footing, stumbling and bringing them both to the ground. Her grip on Daisy starts to loosen and she feels like they're being pulled apart, by the wind or the portal or the planet, Jemma can't even begin to know. All she knows is that she feels Daisy's fingers slipping away from hers and she can hear Daisy's name leaving her lips, can hear it being whipped around in the wind. She can hear Daisy's voice too but she sounds impossibly far away.

She reaches forward with her other hand but she loses her grip before she can reach out for Daisy and just like that it's all over. She's got nothing but a fistful of sand in her hands and the wind still whipping through her hair and her clothes, not as strong now, almost teasingly playful.

Jemma pushes herself to her feet, stumbling toward the place where the portal had once been. "Daisy!" She turns a full circle, calling for her, desperate to see her there among the sand and the rocks. "Daisy!"

She doesn't get an answer, not even an echo to her own words. Daisy is gone, the portal is closed and she's still here…alone…well and truly alone.

"No!" Jemma cries, dropping to her knees where the portal used to be. "No! No, no, no." She claws at the ground, heedless of the rocks and grit burying itself beneath her nails. "Daisy! Come back, come back," she whispers, folding in on herself, pressing her forehead to the ground as though Daisy is there beneath it. "I can't do this without you."

She's a selfish, terrible, arrogant, prideful person. Maybe that's why she was sent here in the first place. Maybe this is where she deserves to be for wishing that Daisy was still here with her instead of safely on the other side of the portal.

The ground beneath her starts rumbling and Jemma lifts her head, pulling in a deep breath. This is new; Daisy never mentioned any seismic activity during her time on the planet and Jemma hasn't experienced any in the endless days she's been here. Right now, she can't find it in herself to care. She just hopes the earthquake manages to bury her and the water monster and that Thing walking around the planet. Her expectations have changed quite a bit from clean sheets, a hot shower and fresh fruit.

The rumbling only grows stronger, louder, like the world is going to tear itself apart right beneath her. But it doesn't. Not a single fissure appears in the rocky ground. Instead, the portal flickers back into focus, opening, and there's someone reaching out from the other side and Jemma doesn't hesitate.

When the dust clears and the world resettles around her, Jemma finds herself in the arms of Fitz, her best friend since her days at the Academy. They've worked together, side by side, at SHIELD since graduation day and she should have known that if there was going to be anyone waiting for her on the other side, it would be him.

"Jemma," he says, his voice thick, disbelief plan on his face. "You…I can't believe-"

Jemma sits up, trying to ignore the spinning her head. "Daisy," she whispers, trying to push her way out of Fitz's arms. "Where's Daisy."

And then she sees her there, on the ground, only inches away. Agent Morse is here, along with Agents Coulson and May, people she's known only in passing but who have somehow become responsible for keeping the vigil for her return. She'll get the full story from Fitz later but right now there's only one piece that really matters: Daisy. Agent Morse is tending to her, checking her pulse, keeping Daisy's head resting against her knees. Of course, none of this explains why Daisy is unconscious, her face pale, blood spotting beneath her nose.

Jemma reaches for her, feeling like someone is cleaving her heart in two. It doesn't feel much better even after she has Daisy in her arms, ascertaining for herself that her heart is still beating, that she's still breathing. "What happened to her?" She whispers desperately, looking back at Fitz. "What happened? How did you get the portal to re-open?"

Fitz is watching her, wearing the same cloudy, confused, grateful expression on his face that the other agents have. "We didn't," he tells her. "We've been studying the Monolith for nearly a year, ever since you disappeared. We figured out that vibrations were instrumental in opening it but…it opened by itself and she came out." His eyes rest on Daisy's still, pale face. "And the portal closed and you…you were still there."

"It was her," Morse interjects, almost tenderly, as though she's known Daisy for longer than a few minutes. "She re-opened the portal. Once Fitz mentioned the vibrations, she just…" Bobbi holds up a hand but then drops it just as quickly, seemingly embarrassed by the gesture. "Did you get superpowers on that planet too?"

Jemma swallows, looking down at Daisy. "She already had those," she says softly, brushing Daisy's hair away from her forehead. No need to wonder about Daisy's Inhuman abilities anymore, she supposes.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Agent Simmons," Coulson says and three heads turn in his direction. "Just like we have a lot of questions for you. But all of that can wait until later. I'm guessing you're exhausted and would really love to get cleaned up."

Jemma's eyes almost well with tears at the idea. "You have no idea."

* * *

 

When Jemma steps into the med bay, the first thing she does is reach for the light switch, dimming the light to a much more manageable level. Daisy will definitely appreciate it when she finally wakes up; she spent much more time on that alien planet then Jemma did and Jemma is having enough trouble adjusting to the lights and sound as it is. She feels a little guilty standing there in her fluffy, warm, clean, white robe, her hair damp against her shoulders and she's full for the first time in what she now knows is ten months. And Daisy is still in her dirty, tattered clothes, looking too small and still in her SHIELD issue hospital bed. Her vitals are good, it should only be a matter of time before she wakes up, but that doesn't do much to ease Jemma's nerves right now.

Absently, Jemma strokes Daisy's hair; she doesn't turn around when she hears the sound of footsteps behind her. "I can't believe you're back, Jemma," Fitz says softly, as though unwilling to disturb them. "We've been trying for months…"

Jemma looks over her shoulder, smiling at her friend. Every face here is unfamiliar but his. After she vanished into the stone, it was moved to the Triskelion base for study and safekeeping. Of course Fitz went along with it, taking the helm on the research team tasked with figuring out what the hell the stone was and how to get Jemma out of it. They'd still be studying the portal, trying to make sense of the vibrations and the way the stone seemed to react to them, when the stone had opened by itself and Daisy had tumbled out. Jemma doesn't know where the stone is now and honestly she doesn't really care.

"The Director can't wait to hear your report," Fitz tells her, coming to stand beside her. "You have more knowledge on this thing than anyone else, you're invaluable to-"

"Maybe not anyone else," Jemma interrupts, looking back down at Daisy. Ten months was nearly long enough to drive her insane and she had Daisy there with her. She can't imagine three years on that hellish planet, alone.

Fitz studies Daisy curiously. "She was already there when you were transported?"

Jemma nods. "She'd been sucked into the portal as well. We need to find her parents."

Fitz nods. "I can have Agent Morse start looking into it and she'll be able to tell us more once she wakes up." He hesitates for a minute before making up his mind to ask the question anyway, "She's got superpowers?" There's a hint of child-like excitement in his tone.

Jemma smiles, reaching for her friend. "Oh, Fitz, I missed you."

It feels good to hug him, to make solid contact with someone here, to reassure her that she's really back after all.

Fitz stays for a little while longer, unable to keep his curiosity in check about the strange planet. Jemma answers his questions as best as she can, deciding not to mention anything about the Thing that shared the space with them. She's not sure she could put it into words anyway.

When Fitz leaves, Jemma slips into bed beside Daisy, forgoing dreams of soft, fluffy sheets and pillows for the scratchy, sharp smelling blankets of the medical wing. Not that it matters; the second she rests her head against Daisy's shoulder she slips easily off to sleep.

* * *

 

"This is the best thing that's ever happened to me," Daisy announces shamelessly, closing her eyes and letting a moan of pleasure slip past her lips as she takes another bite of the pizza. She peeks one eye open, looking at Jemma. "And yes, that includes what you're thinking right now. Sorry."

Jemma rolls her eyes, picking a peperoni off her pizza and eating it, licking the grease from her fingers. "Oh, I'm not offended, I was just thinking the same thing," she assures Daisy sweetly.

Daisy purses her lips, looking like she's trying to figure out if she should be offended or just keep eating her pizza. It's an easy winner.

They're sitting cross-legged on the bed in the room that's been proved for them by Director Fury. Apparently returning from an alien planet in an alien solar system has made Jemma somewhat of a celebrity among the SHIELD agents and scientists and it's more overwhelming than flattering and Jemma is more than happy to be here behind the locked door with a pizza box between her and Daisy. Tomorrow she'll have to go into a briefing with Fury and Coulson and several SHIELD liaisons from the UN, where she'll undoubtedly spend hours being grilled about past the past ten months and provide every piece of information about the planet that she can. She knows she'll have to talk about that Thing, that there's no avoiding it anymore. Jemma doesn't relish the feeling of scientific discovery and being the first to experience and understand something the way that she always thought she would. She's enjoying being back on Earth a little bit more.

"Are you nervous?" Jemma questions, watching as Daisy finishes her pizza and reaches for another slice. It's hard to tell who was more relieved when Daisy was discharged from the medical wing and allowed to come to the suite Fury provided.

Not that the past two days have been without issue. The room is lit only by the warm glow of a night light and all the pillows and blankets have been pulled off the bed and piled onto the floor, creating a pallet that is still leagues more comfortable than the one they had back in their shelter. Fury has even stopped by once, expressing interest in talking to Daisy not because of her experiences on the planet but because of her Inhuman abilities. All work and no play, apparently.

"Nervous?" Daisy repeats with forced nonchalance. "No. Why would I be nervous?" She asks in the tone of someone who is, in fact, nervous.

Jemma smiles, resting her hand on Daisy's knee. "I think it's perfectly natural to feel a little uncertain," she assures Daisy. "It has been almost four years since you saw them."

Daisy nods, shrugging. "Yeah…maybe I'm just a _little_ nervous," Daisy admits. "But not, you know, trying to kill an underwater monster so you can have a bath nervous."

Jemma is unimpressed by the comparison. Apparently she's never going to live that one down.

* * *

 

It's easy to wake Daisy. They're both light sleepers now, starting awake at the sound of footsteps or quiet voices outside the bedroom door. Jemma leans over, kissing Daisy gently on the cheek and running her fingers lightly along the curve of her elbow. "Come on," she says softly against her skin.

Daisy groans, burying her face further into the pillow. "Tomorrow," she grumbles. "Let's do it tomorrow."

But Jemma gets her up anyway and they walk -Daisy mumbling complaints for most of the way- through the hallways of the Triskelion, moving from floor to floor, passing almost no one along the way.

Jemma props the roof door open behind them and they move to the edge, finding a spot to sit amongst someone's small attempts to start a garden. Daisy leans against her and Jemma slips her arm around Daisy's waist and for the smallest of moments, it feels like it's just the two of them again, together on a planet at the edge of the universe.

But then the sun starts to rise and Jemma closes her eyes, feeling the warmth of it on her face. It feels exactly as she remembers.


End file.
